


Your Body Pulls Me Under

by dragonflower



Category: Free!
Genre: Asexuality, M/M, Sexual Content, sex viewed in terms of water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflower/pseuds/dragonflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka comes to terms with sex and what it means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Body Pulls Me Under

Sex to Haruka was like swimming. It had a quick start, a paced yet frantic middle, and then a rush to the finish line. Not that he didn’t mind sex. But it didn’t occupy his mind like other boys his age. He didn’t spend hours fantasizing about fucking and jerking off. He really only paid attention to his dick when it happened to get hard (Haruka was never quite sure what triggered it). He knew what sex was like to other people (how movies explained it. How his friends acted around it). To Haruka, sex was a drive that made people do questionable things and kept their mind occupied at the most inopportune moments. Sex to Haruka was something that just was.

Haruka knew Makoto liked sex. Makoto liked it when Haruka touched him, kissed him, fucked him. He liked the closeness and the way Haruka looked at him during sex (Haruka didn’t know how to tell him he was thinking of water most of the time — if Makoto didn’t know already). He acted like Haruka thought people would act when sex was brought up — when someone wanted sex.

It puzzled Haruka that Makoto would still be with him — want to be with him — when most nights he went to bed with a stiff dick, or took a shower by himself. It didn’t bother Haruka. Erections were a part of life. But it bothered him that he couldn’t give everything Makoto wanted; Haruka wished he had more drive to touch, to taste, and a need to pleasure Makoto. But, he lacked it.

Even still, Haruka tried to be a good lover. Or as much of a lover he could be.

In the rare moments they had sex, Haruka enjoyed fucking Makoto. It seemed liked an antithesis to him not understanding the act of sex, but he enjoyed the closeness of Makoto. The way their bodies met and separated. It wasn’t the pleasure of fucking Makoto, or even the fact that Makoto was Makoto that got him off. It was the sensation and the look that Makoto gave him when they copulated. And the way Makoto smiled and kissed him, saying Haruka’s name in his ear.

He liked fucking Makoto more than being fucked by Makoto.

Being fucked felt like an irregular protrusion was being shoved up his anal cavity. He didn’t see sparks or feel like his prostate was being duly massaged. It felt like long, thick jabs that more annoyed him than gave him pleasure. Like jets of water, filling him, but without the satisfactory feel of water rushing around his body.

Makoto never forced him to have sex — to bottom. After they had done it the first time, Makoto had looked at him, bangs wet against his forehead, face flushed, and laughed.

He told Haruka that he looked unhappy, like he had eaten something sour, but was trying to act like he had just eaten something sweet instead. Then he ran a hand up Haruka’s sternum and kissed his neck, telling him that they didn’t have to do anything more. That he didn’t expect anything more. That he was just happy being with Haruka.

To Haruka, it still didn’t seem like enough.

Rei and Nagisa fucked like porpoises, craving each other, Haruka having walked in on them enough times to know they enjoyed the deed. They even talked about it (well Nagisa talked about it and Rei blushed while trying to half-heartedly shush the other man). Makoto never joined in. He just smiled his half smile and laughed, cheery, never divulging what him and Haruka did in the confines of their own house, even when Nagisa begged for the details.

One night after Haruka walked in on Nagisa and Rei having sex for the eighth time, he went home, his pants feeling slightly tighter; he wasn’t sure if he was turned on by watching them or if the swell of his dick was merely reactionary. A stimulation out of his control. The way Rei and Nagisa's bodies moved had been beautiful, like waves crashing into each other on the shore, bodies rising and falling against each other. The moans they made hadn’t made him stir, but their bodies in the low light — the hands gripping each other, feet digging into a curved spine — there was beauty in it. (Haruka felt silly thinking that. Almost romantic. Obviously he had been spending too much time around Rei).

At home, he had kissed Makoto (which of itself was normal) and tugged him towards their bedroom. He asked Makoto if he could fuck him, Makoto’s ears turning red, a shyer smile crossing his face. Of course, Makoto let him — Haruka knew he would have never said no.

This time sex felt different. It felt like water rushing over his body. It felt like he was water, filling, joining, caressing and crashing into Makoto again and again. The slick feel of Makoto ass, the pressure around his dick, like an undertow dragging Haruka, down and deeper inside. (It felt like drowning and the moment you break through the water, gasping at the first breath you’ve finally been allowed to take all at the same time).

Coming felt like a rush of pressure water being released, Haruka shaking after, every nerve end jumping as he came down from a high. Only swimming — winning a competition — had ever come close to euphoria for Haruka. But that — this — had felt like Haruka had the first time he had swum. How it felt like swimming against Rin, but so damn different, that Haruka couldn’t even find how to describe what just happened to him.

He wasn’t sure if there was a water synonym that could describe what he was feeling. Well, maybe now, as he lay beside Makoto, spent, like the dregs of an ocean receding from the sandy banks, slowly lapping, calmly, tired.

Beside him, Makoto had his eyes closed, his face pensive. Something clinched at Haruka’s heart — somehow he had messed up. He had been so focused on the feeling — the pull and push of their bodies that he had forgotten to get Makoto off as well. The spots of come on his chest, said that Makoto had reached completion, but maybe, maybe not in a good way? Was there a bad way?

Then, just as Haruka’s mind began to swirl and his own thoughts pull him under, he felt Makoto’s lips against his. Felt Makoto smile into his lips.

Pulling away, Haruka looked at him questionably, not sure what to say. Makoto just smiled again and got a warm cloth to clean themselves up. Then he climbed back into bed and curled around Haruka, Haruka’s back against his stomach.

Maybe Makoto knew he had been thinking about water and that’s what was causing the silence? It wasn’t sexual, his thoughts. Well, a bit sexual, but only because he thought of Makoto with them.

“It’s not. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not,” Makoto mumbled into Haruka’s hair. Makoto yawned, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape against Haruka’s skin. “That was fantastic. Perfect.”

Warmth spread through Haruka, happiness tumbling out like water breaking through an ice dam. He wasn’t sure if the sex constituted as great or bad, or anything, but he was happy that Makoto had enjoyed himself. That they had both enjoyed themselves. That he hadn’t been another passive watcher as Makoto tried to make him feel good.

Haruka snuggled back into Makoto, lacing their fingers together. He smiled, face hidden from Makoto. Maybe he wouldn’t be up for this — for sex everyday — maybe not every week, but at least he had found something they both enjoyed, no matter where his mind took him.


End file.
